Shade: Blood Lies
by Negligible1
Summary: A Shade, a Rider, a Man, which was he? With a Legion locked inside his skull, in a cage that will last millennia, Eragon finally had time to contemplate these questions. But why bother with that when there are things to kill.
1. Sweet Bloody Vengeance

**Chapter 1: Sweet Bloody Vengeance.**

It loomed before them, the pitch black mountain that was Helgrind, an object that had been embedded in Eragon's mind since he had first seen it. In its shadow Brom had been fatally injured by the Ra'zac, it was here he had first encountered Murtagh, the beginnings of their friendship. It was here where his hate of the Ra'zac formed into something deeper, a dark, desperate _loathing_ of the species, of everything they represented. And it was this loathing that birthed a desire… to wipe them off the face of the earth, for once and for all.

Roran shouted something at his over the sound of rushing air as they flew, Eragon ignored it, it was likely more of his cousins pointless prattle, and Eragon had no mind for it right now. Only one thing was on his mind.

The Ra'zac were here.

The Ra'zac.

Ra'zac.

Ra'.

Zac.

R.

a.

'.

z.

a.

c.

Those who had murdered Garrow, Brom, and who knew how many others. But Brom and Garrow mattered to him, that was all that really mattered. _They_ had chained Saphira like she was some wild beast. They had murdered people important to him, they had destroyed his life, and now he'd do the same to them.

He was going to kill them, kill them dead, dead and buried, or just dead, who cared, so long as they were dead.

They were the start of his journey, the cause of it all, without them none of this would've happened, he might still be in Carvahall, Garrow might still be alive, _but_ here and now, he would end them, end their race, never again would they walk the face fo the earth. He would murder them all. Every last one.

He let out a shuddering breath, taking the tension from his body and focusing on the task rather than fantasy. They weren't going to kill themselves after all.

' _There's no entrance'_ Saphira told them, she had scanned the entire mountain, circled it at least twice, and found nothing ' _A pigeon couldn't find a hole big enough to roost on this blasted mountain.'_

Eragon felt a smile touch his face at her frustration, while his eyes scanned the mountain intently.

' _What should we do?'_ she asked him hurriedlyy ' _If we stay here we'll be seen. I don't fancy our chances against all of Dras'Leona.'_

' _Really? I do'_ he ignored her response to his arrogant response and instead searched with his mind. He found the two beings whom he had located yesterday. One was definitely Katrina, scared, terrified in truth, the other, well that much bile, bitter putrid anger, rage and loathing, that could only be Sloan.

They were _inside_ the mountain, which begged the question, How?

As Saphira noted there was no visible entrance, so then…

Eragon frowned ' _Take us closer'_ he told her, guiding her with the back of his hand on her neck, pressing firmly in the direction he wished them to go. She did as he bid and took them much closer to the mountain.

' _There's nothing here Eragon'_ she said impatiently, and also a little annoyed that he didn't trust her observation.

' _Nothing we can see, but as Oromis says, 'One's eyes cannot always be trusted, they lie at the worst of times, are prone to blurring under duress, or cringing under brightness, indeed eyes are a most flawed way of viewing the world'.'_

' _Eragon, if you spout elven bullshit at me again, I'll flip, literally flip around and smash you and your cousin and myself into the mountain, kill us all. Don't think I won't'._

He grinned and muttered a few words, casting a gentle spell, it would apply a small amount of force to the mountain face and provide him with that information as if it were his hand pressing. So when he found a place where his hand met no firm rock, indeed where his hand slipped past the rock he saw evident before him, he released the spell and Saphira, guided by his findings, grasped the edges of the entrance with her claws, pulling herself through the illusionary wall.

"Gah!" Roran scrambled down from Saphira once they were inside, breathing heavily "Warn me in future!" he shouted at his still mountain cousin.

Eragon considered the room they found themselves in, it grew wider as it got deeper, though it was quite wide where they were, the entrance. Scratches matted the floor, evidence of the Lethrblaka's residence. Five slender tunnels speared off from this central chambers, as did a larger passage large enough for a dragon, all black as pitch, and empty as far as his mind could tell.

And it stank in here, he could smell the stink of rotting meat, faintly sweet, sickly.

A smile touched his face as he stared at a passage, a shifting in the dark drawing his eyes and revealing itself into a shape, not even considering the very simple fact that he could sense no presence down that tunnel "Hello beautiful" he said losing his sword and leaping down from his dragon ' _You ready honey?'_

Saphira snorted a spurt of flame as the Lethrblaka, realising it did not have the element of surprise it thought it did, slowed and moved more cautiously, making loud clicking noises ' _Indeed my love, I am ready to shed blood at your side once more. For fire, glory and vengeance, sweet bloody vengeance, for Brom, for your Garrow, and most of all for us!'_

' _Don't forget Katty.'_

' _...Who was that again?'_

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Roran considered his cousin, sword drawn, staring into a dark passage in which Roran could perceive nought but darkness. He looked… intense, yeah, that the word, not terrifying, scary, intimidating, a figure of awe and horror in equal measure. No, just an intense figure… totally just intense, that was all, honest.

Roran had seen a similar look on Eragon's face when they had camped, as he stared at the black mountain. When they had watched the priests of Helgrind perform their horrid rituals, Eragon had had that same look, had been staring at the mountain instead of the men.

When they camped Eragon's gaze rarely left the mountain, even when he spoke with Roran, taught him how to defend him mind, spoke to him of magic and past injuries, Eragon's eyes were affixed to the mountain, rarely ever leaving.

His thoughts naturally drifted from there, back to what they had discussed last night and the implications.

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" _Magic might be useless against the Ra'zac."_

" _What?" Roran stared at his cousin, dumbfounded. There was no lead up, no build up, just a statement, and certainly not one he had expected. The things Eragon had told him, he half expected them to just waltz in, kill the Ra'zac with a word and stroll out._

 _Eragon rolled his eyes "Something I've been thinking about" 'We' Saphira slotted in before he could continue "We, whatever. The King has had ages to apply wards to the Ra'zac, with those in place then trying to kill them with magic… well, I dunno what powers their wards, it could be the Ra'zac themselves, and I dunno their limits, or their parents. Or it could be Galbatorix."_

" _And if it is?" Roran said, what did that matter, the king was just a man after all, and Eragon would have to face him eventually._

 _Eragon stared at Roran coldly, then laughed grimly "I don't fancy testing myself against the Black King right now, save that for the big ending."_

 _Roran couldn't say he understood, but he wasn't exactly intent on arguing with Eragon, especially not on matter beyond his understanding. And magic was certainly one of them "What does that mean?" so he'd ask something that wasn't beyond his comprehension, hopefully, and was also important "For our… endeavour."_

" _It means that we'll be relying on your hammer and my sword" Eragon tapped his sword, the one he had obtained from a Shade. When Roran first met him he had had another sword, but he had passed that off to the elf, Arya, before he left. He may have also stated that if she lost it or allowed it to be misplaced that he'd misplace her sword, and may have also muttered, as he left, 'up your arse'._

 _Honestly, he was surprised that she just nodded calmly and didn't take the sword and stick it… well, where the sun don't shine to be polite._

" _It also means you need to stick with me or Saphira., if you get separated then you're an easy target for the Ra'zac. The Ra'zac are also stronger than men, and as fast as an elf. So superior to you, in every way, if you will. Bear that in mind."_

 _Roran scowled at the dirt "Will I just be in the way tomorrow?"_

 _Eragon shrugged "No clue."_

" _Could you handle this yourself?"_

" _Yes."_

" _Should I stay back?"_

" _Your choice."_

 _Roran growled in annoyance at his answers "I'm going!" he said finally, there would be no further debate. It was harsh, the truth, but Eragon was greater than him, stronger, faster, just flat out superior, and the Ra'zac were also his betters. But he would go and fight, if nothing else Eragon might need another body to be mauled, he thought grimly._

 _With a grimace he considered the topic of magic again, it was wondrous, wonderful, capable of so many great things, and yet "Magic" Roran spat it like a curse "It's… too tricky."_

 _Eragon laughed, at him or at his statement, Roran wasn't sure, he leaned towards the former though "Not really. Magic is simple. And if magic were gone, well there'd just be something else equally complicated, or you'd realise that magic didn't overcomplicated things overmuch."_

 _He frowned at his cousin, how could a mystical capability to manipulate the world not overcomplicate things? Shaking his head he considered more pressing matters "Could you make me strong and fast as you?"_

 _That also made him laugh "Sure, you get seven months to waste?"_

 _Roran grumbled._

" _Even then it wouldn't be perfect, I'd likely have to…" he frowned and stroked his chin, thinking intently "Yeah, it'd take a while, might not be perfect, would depend on too many variables for me to tell you whether it'd work alright or not."_

" _Great" Roran glared at the sky "Can you teach me how to use magic?" he stared at Roran oddly, considering it "Not now obviously" Roran said quickly "We don't have the time, probably. But… well, why not? Me and you are cousins, maybe there's something in our blood. And it would not be an invaluable skill."_

 _Eragon smirked "People tend to use invaluable to mean things that are above value, rather than things that are below it, worthless in other words."_

 _Roran shrugged "I don't know words."_

" _No, you don't" Eragon flicked his cousin a rock, he only just managed to catch it "Hold it on your palm, focus, and say stenr risa, and raise the rock into the air. Not with your hand" Roran did this, to no success, Eragon just watched boredly "Well you keep it up" he vaguely heard his cousin speak, as he focused intently on the rock._

 _For a time he continued his efforts, willing the rock into the air, but it remained stubbornly sat there, unflinching before his declarations._

" _There is something you need to learn" Eragon said, drawing him from his reverie "And it's not magic" Roran looked at him distractedly, still trying to focus on the stone in his hand, raise you bastard "You need to learn how to defend you mind."_

 _That made him pause "What do you mean?"_

" _What I mean…" Eragon said slowly, and in an instant Roran felt it, overwhelming and intense, forcing itself in without a single care or concern, a mind far superior to his, like a raging ocean of blood 'Is that I can see every thought you have' the voice echoed inside his own skull and gave him a headache, he felt himself panic, thoughts racing through his head, some poignant, others worthless, and one… well, one about something entirely unrelated. He hoped… but Eragon's laughter dashed such hopes 'Quite a pair on her, eh Roran. You lucky little…"_

" _Get out!" Roran shouted at his cousin, waving his hand wildly to swat away Eragon's mind attack. It probably wouldn't work but it felt good to do something._

" _You can't run from this" without any thought Roran found himself standing, and his hand rose before his face, then wrapped around his throat. It squeezed, tight enough that no air could pass through, and Roran stood there, choking himself "I own you" Eragon spoke the words, but Roran could hear nothing over the sound of Eragon in his own mind._

 _For a single moment he feared that this was the end, that he would die here._

 _But then Eragon released his stranglehold, literally, and Roran was given back control, his hand yanking away and his breathing coming out in quick nervous breaths._

" _Amongst Galbatorix's men there are others with this ability, mostly spellcasters" Eragon continued, unconcerned with the fact that he had just had his cousin choke himself near to death "There's the Black Hand, his spies amongst the Varden. Du Vrangr Gata, and I'm not entirely certain about Angela's intents either. So basically a nice list of people who want what's in your head, and they might not be as gentle as me."_

 _Roran glared at him, maybe it was just Eragon trying to emphasize the importance of this, but he felt like there was a better way to do it "I dunno about this Angela, but why are Du Vrangr Gata in there" Roran queried "I mean they serve the Varden, and Lady Nasuada… and aren't they subservient to you as well?"_

 _Eragon laughed again, Roran was rather sick of feeling ignorant in front of his cousin, it got old real quick "Sure. They're all of those things. And you think none of them have designs greater than their present position? You think none of them desire greater power and the knowledge to obtain it? Du Vrangr Gata will be more dangerous than the Black Hand in truth, they'll just try to kill you, Du Vrangr Gata will take everything they can get from your mind out of the hope it will be useful."_

 _That made him scowl, he had trusted in the men who had his back for so long, the idea of doubting them didn't sit well with him "Can't even trust your allies? That kinda sucks."_

" _Yes, it does."_

" _So how do I do it?" after an example like that, Roran was fully motivated to learn this particular skill. So maybe Eragon was a better teacher than he thought, he knew how to motivate a student… with threats of death, pain and torture. Yeah, great teacher._

" _It's simple enough. Picture something, an image, and maintain it, maintain it until it blots out all other thoughts, think of nothing except what you chose. Whether its an image, a poem, a castle, whatever."_

" _What do you use?"_

" _Black iron bars, a cage."_

 _That wasn't helpful, he had to think too much about a cage. How was it constructed, and for what? Was it for animals, was it for people, what was the texture of black iron? No, it wouldn't do at all. Roran scowled at the ground, thinking intently about the one thing that could completely consume his being "Does it have to be any of those things? An image, or poem or..."_

" _So long as it consumes your thoughts completely, it can be whatever you want."_

" _But then how do you fight?"_

" _While?" he nodded, and Eragon responded by shrugging "You just learn to. You learn to think beneath the walls. It's… complicated, but eventually it becomes a surface thought, deeper thoughts can still occur. Or deeper thoughts don't… It's kinda complicated."_

" _I see" he really didn't, but he was focusing now, on the object he would base his defences around, if it only needed to consume his thoughts then it would do perfectly "I think I have something. Give me a second" he said focusing intently, once he was done he glanced at Eragon mouth open._

 _A single looked into those eyes made him flinch, rid him of the thoughts he was to use to guard his mind,_

 _He scowled "Dammit."_

 _Eragon rolled his eyes "Just tap or something."_

 _When it finally came time, and Roran indicated, Eragon entered his mind, or so Roran assumed. He couldn't really tell what was happening, he just kept thinking intently of Katrina, let her consume everything that he was, until he thought of nothing else. She was everything to him, everything he had, without her he was nothing. If she was gone… he didn't think he could do ought else, he would live to take revenge, then die. There was nothing for him beyond Katrina._

 _And in an instant his defences were crushed, he was left stunned, staggering, his head throbbing intently._

' _That was an impressive effort' Eragon said softly, startling Roran as the word did not come from Eragon's mouth "For a first timer especially" he said extracting himself from his cousin's mind "It was actually very impressive, even someone experienced don't always have such flawless defences. Keep working on it. Try… try finding a sequence you can repeat, over and over. A statement, a poem, whatever. Just something repeatable. And concentrate on that."_

" _How do you fight like that?" Roran muttered again, this time more fully understanding the question he was asking. He wasn't asking for the answer, Eragon had already given him that, sort of, but he just could not picture while thinking so intently._

 _But Eragon answered all the same "As I said, you learn to think beneath. Or think without thinking. Elves are shit" he said offhandedly, confusing Roran. What did that have to do with anything? "You don't think, you act… it" Eragon continued, but it was clear he didn't have the words and eventually just gave up "As I said, complicated."_

 _Roran shook his head "All this magic shit is complicated."_

 _Eragon had laughed, only later would Roran learn the reason for his humour._

 _This wasn't even magic._

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The Lethrblaka charged, its pointed beak stabbing forwards at Saphira. She narrowly avoided, grabbing its back leg with her teeth.

Eragon's eyes were better in the dark than hers, she had not noticed the creature until he had acknowledged it. It was a somewhat infuriating thought, she had long since accepted that Eragon was better at magic than she, for she could not use it, but knowing that her eyes were worse, in the dark at least, was aggravating.

He might not be able to spot a goat from the air, as she could, but it still made her feel inferior, and that was not a feeling she enjoyed.

It's blood tasted like piss, she tried to torch up but her flames didn't touch the creatures flesh. The real question was were the wards bound to the Ra'zac's strength or the King's, for it if were the former Eragon could overpower them without a doubt.

Probably.

Maybe.

Ok, so there were a few doubts, but the point was they dared not use magic directly against the enemy they face today.

With a great shift she shoved the bastardised dragon with all her strength, sending it tumbling. She was ready for the first, hence her success against it, the second came as a surprise, and its beak stabbed into the flesh of her flank.

A scream loosed from her lips, a roar to all who heard it, and she turned to avoid the blow becoming any more damaging than it was, at the same time shifting to slash at the creature, though it avoided. Eragon was already there, his silver sword dancing, the creature gained a deep cut to its neck, not fatal but close enough for concern, before it back away from Eragon.

Her attention was drawn to the second as it pecked at her back, she whipped around, claws a slashing, teeth a biting, and drove it back. A brief thought from Eragon and her eyes sought Roran and found him, and the two Raz'ac emerging from the tunnel behind where he had fallen, having been caught by the first Lethrblaka's charge and sent stunned to the ground.

She was aware of Eragon cursing, telling her audibly to handle this and rushed to his cousin, one of the Lethrblaka made to swat him, but she prevented it with a bite. It did not connect but it caused the beast to recoil. The pair of them versus the one of her, much as she would love to be arrogant and say they had no chance, they had a very good chance. She'd have to rely on Eragon pulling through to get her through this unscatched, or rather undead.

Vaguely she was aware of Eragon's own battle with the Ra'zac, which went remarkably smoothly, he cut one open within a few moments, killing it, the other whom he had wounded quite heavily, was allowed to flee, but only because he had more pressing matters to attend to, and no magic to pursue it with.

Eragon's was back to her as soon as he was done, the damage the Lethrblaka had caused since then was minimal, though the sight of it caused such ugly anger to rear up in him, it would make her blush if she were capable of such a thing. As it was she felt a warm feeling in the pit of stomach.

He summoned light, silently telling her to close her eyes, and she felt Roran through the connection as well being told similarly and made to when he did not act quickly enough.

The Lethrblaka and the Ra'zac were creatures of the night after all, so Eragon summoned the bright white light of heaven itself to blind them to all hell. It worked, both of the leathery beasts screamed and wailed as their eyes were seared with bright white light that even through her closed lids hurt Saphira's eyes.

Immediately after receiving word from Eragon, she opened her eyes and charged one of the winged freaks, sinking her teeth into its neck, and proceeded to break said neck with a viscious shake.

Though she took but a few moments to finish this, the other Lethrblaka recovered before she was done and she felt its body collide with her and take her out through the illusionary wall, her teeth still clamped into the corpse. Both her and the corpse went tumbling out of the mountain, while the beast spread its wings and glided out.

She untangled herself from the monster she had murdered and spread her wings, catching herself before she collided with the mountainside and was sent tumbling down its length. The corpse of the Lethrblaka was not so lucky and likely had no unbroken bones by the time it came to rest at the foot of Helgrind, battered into a bloodied pulp.

Letting loose a roar of glorious violence she flew after the leathery beast that circled above her predatory. That would soon change.

' _Handle your end'_ she told Eragon, feeling her blood rise at the prospect of an ariel hunt for a change, as the Lethrblaka swooped down on her, and she narrowly avoided its piercing beak, passing it and gaining height on the lesser creature ' _I'll handle mine.'_

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Eragon smiled softly "Understood."

Roran hissing drew his attention, the Ra'zac has struck a quite nasty blow, stabbing clean through his shield, and hitting a rib. He strode over and, grabbing his cousin's arms, examined the wound, touching it lightly but still enough to cause pain.

"Lucky, your ribs are still in place. Waise heill" he used a simple spell, and healed it simply, regrowing flesh and skin over the wound rather than anything more intrusive or intensive. It wasn't worth it yet, he'd deal with that once they were done "Katrina's down there, make it snappy" he pointed to a tunnel, two along from the one the Ra'zac fled down, the one that roughly correlated with the direction Katrina was in "If you find a Ra'zac shout, and don't guard your mind."

"Got it" Roran said, rushing off.

Eragon smiled amusedly at his cousin's eagerness to be with his beloved, he frowned and sent a werelight to follow his cousin so that he would not be blinded in the darkness of the tunnels. But as he strode into the darkness of his own tunnel, his nose smelling the Ra'zac's foul blood, his grin transformed, grew foul and angry, full of violence and rage.

He hunted with his nose and his sword drawn, and knew that the creature was close. He had wounded its side, it couldn't get far "Come out" he murmured to the darkness "You know you can't escape, why bother even trying" he could see nothing in this genuine blackness, but he could hear, and smell, and taste "It's useless, there's no escape for you."

He heard the creak of straining wood, and jerked his head. Instants later an arrow whizzed past his cheek, grazing it, but it did not impact into the centre of his forehead where it would have had he not moved. The arrowhead cut his cheek, and worse it was covered in that foul oil, Seithr, that made his flesh burn, a spell snapped the bow, another prevented the oil from doing anything worse to his face than it had.

After this small affair a voice reached his ears, sending his smile sprawling all across his face, wider than ever before "You murdered my hatch mate, and your dragon murdered at least one of my parents" the Ra'zac stated, somewhat accusingly. It sounded pained, and Eragon could hear it moving to the left a little, trying to be quiet but its wound was making its movements clumsy, otherwise it might actually be a challenge to hear it.

"Both actually" he had just received words of that, and his dragon was returning, and was busy being worried about him confronting this Ra'zac on his own, even though she knew he was their better.

The foul creature hissed at this new, if expected, knowledge "You have murdered all that remained of my race, we are gone. Even if I should survive, Rider…" it hissed again, less angry, more sorrowful "You Rider's won. Well done legacy of the Riders, you finally exterminated my kind. The long campaign of the Rider's, finished at last."

"No" he growled, finding more anger than he cared for at being compared to, or considered the successor, to the Riders "Not the Rider's, I'm not doing this for them, as some continuation of their efforts, this is for me" he thumped his armoured chest "I murdered your hatch mate, and aided in the death of one of your parents. You murdered my Uncle, and a man who was as good a father to me. But that's not enough for me, I want you gone, gone, gone, gone gonegoneGONE!" he took a shaking breath "And I get to now. You'll all be dead, and my vengeance, a part of it at least, will be complete."

The Ra'zac hissed at him "The Black Rider will deal with you" it told him, Eragon heard the unsheating of a sword though it attempt to muffle the sound with words "He has more hearts than you."

Eragon laughed "He might have more heart, but I have more _soul_."

The Ra'zac leapt at him, he heard rather than saw the act, but Eragon's sword was quicker and truer than its, and the creature was sent to the ground, legless and screaming.

He laughed at the sound of the screams "I thought there'd be more to it than this. Thought there'd be more danger in the pair of you, well the four of you. But no, you're nothing before me. Dirt, pathetic. You and your kind and nothing, and now you'll be dead, you'll be nothing but a nightmare!"

The Ra'zac laughed, or at least Eragon assumed that was a laugh, through its screams and agony it laughed "Then I am satisfied" the creature hissed, breathless "My race my fall... but we will not be forgotten. That is enough" a heartbeat passed as he considered this, the creature was satisfied, or would take whatever small victory it could get, in such clear defeat "Shall I tell you something Rider?"

"I don't see why you should" Eragon said, kicking where he assumed the creature was, and getting a pleasant thump for his efforts "I want you screaming not talking."

"He is almost there" Eragon blinked, and jabbed his sword down into what he assumed was the chest of the Ra'zac. Maybe he should make some light? The Ra'zac groaned in pain, but continued talking "Almost discovered it. The name."

"The name?"

"Yes… _the_ name."

Eragon frowned, and summoned an orb of bloody red light that cast them into a soft red glow, and light up where they were. The floor was rock, and the Ra'zac lay bleeding its foul blood that rivered away along grooves in the ground, its sword lay by its hand, still clasped, but it didn't have the ability to lift it, as Eragon's sword had stabbed into its arm, not its chest like Eragon had been attempting.

It laughed at him, now visible, its bulbous black eyes staring into his face "We liked Durza" it said softly, roughly, its dying words "You are Durza's spawn. I don't like you. I hope you fail Rider, no… I know you will. You cannot combat the King. He is more than you, he was more than Durza, far, far more."

"Murtagh said something similar" Eragon said, stabbing his sword into its chest this time, but avoiding, he assumed, the major organs. Did Ra'zac have organs? Did this vaguely human vessel contain anything necessary. He assumed so, or else the creature wouldn't be in so much pain, or so weakened "But you know something. It doesn't matter. Galbatorix will die."

The Ra'zac laughed again "You think?" and that was it, those were the dying words of the race of Ra'zac. It let out a final ragged breath, then faded from this world.

Eragon stabbed it in the head just to make sure, felt Saphira check up on him, but ignored her. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't feel… satisfied. Its words about completing the Rider's work bothered him, he wasn't a Rider, he was Eragon, he wasn't here to rebuild or complete their legacy. Was ending the Ra'zac as a race truly completing their work? What else could he have done, let them go?

Technically he could have done that, but there was no way he actually would let them leave alive.

The Ra'zac at least, he had little quarrel with the Lethrblaka, they hadn't killed Brom or Garrow, they were just the Ra'zac parents, an unfortunate victim of their childrens crimes against him.

But no, truthfully there was no way any of this species could continue to live, the Lethrblaka he assumed weren't terrible parents and wouldn't forgive the murder of their children so casually, and the Ra'zac he could not allow to live. All ultimately had to die.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, it was supposed to be more satisfying than this, it wasn't supposed to feel so empty. He should feel something more, elation, joy, peace. Not this… normality. Nothing had changed, everything remained the same. What was the point of this? Was there a point.

He cast his sword aside and punched the corpse, it made him feel better, so he punched again, and again, he found laughter on his lips as his armoured fists pounded the corpse, he felt a jarring blow as he hit against a hard peak, a bony structure in the Ra'zac's body. But he kept punching, punching and punching and punching.

But it wasn't enough. _This_ wasn't enough.

This was supposed to be his glorious vengeance, so why did it feel like… nothing special.

* * *

Blergh... fuck.

Toodles.


	2. The Grind of Hel

**Chapter 2: The Grind of Hel.**

Roran made his way through dark tunnels, with only the harsh white light of the sphere Eragon had provided guiding him, though it provided more than sufficient illumination, indeed it was a little too bright for his tastes, he would've rather had fire or some other natural lighting implement, rather than his heavenly sphere.

He wondered if that was what the sun was, a glowing orb of white light in the sky? He had always assumed it was a big fire in the sky, or maybe someone had told him that, but this magical sphere looked far more… ethereal than a fireball, and Roran did not believe the sun to be some work of man, but of the gods themselves, so it was only appropriate that it have a more mystical appearance.

But then would beg the question, was god a magic… person? With a start Roran realised he wasn't entirely sure how to term them, magicians, wizards, warlocks, sorcerers, mages, magic-users, spellcasters, were any of these used, or were they just terms the common folk imagined up to describe something they could not fully understand?

He would have to ask Eragon at some point, what words were appropriate and what they meant, if they indeed had a meaning.

But for now there were far more pressing matters than the sun and gods and magicians, namely his love Katrina being locked up in a prison cell somewhere amidst these dank caves.

Who knew how long she had been here? Since the Ra'zac captured her? Or had she gone somewhere else first and only later been brought here? He had been here for only a short time and did not find it pleasant, twice he had almost called out for his cousin's aid, both times stopping himself short as he found it was only shadows dancing in the form of enemies.

He pressed ahead, cautiously as he had no wish to die before he could reach her, but as swiftly as he dared, the light simply followed, it hovered above his head roughly five feet behind him at all times, he had even turned around to observe it and it had moved, not terribly quickly but none too slowly either, to be behind him again.

Of course he'd rather it be in front of him, but you took what you were given, or you took what was not given, and unfortunately in this case Roran could not take more than he was given as he had no idea how to go about taking it. So he'd make do.

He came to a row of doors, cell doors if he'd ever seen one. The ironbound door closest to him he battered open with his hammer, not caring how loud he was or how long it took, indeed he didn't notice the passing of time as he pounded away. Inside he found nought but a corpse. It was not Katrina, it could not be. Eragon himself stated she was still alive, and this body was far too old, just a pile of rotting bones, Katrina had not had the time to become this way.

It still made his stomach drop and his heart clench.

He did not allow it to halt him and moved to the next door, his hammer smashed and smashed and smashed and eventually he managed to break through the lock and opened the cell, he found similar affair in there.

It was almost surprising when he found himself pausing for breath before the third. He had noticed the exertion during the act, too focused, indeed even now he was oddly detached from his own body, desiring only to press ahead and open more doors, to get to his beloved quicker.

He moved on and on the next door broke the lock in seven heavy blows. He had to lean heavily against the door frame, and breathe for a minute, before finally he pushed against the metal, and the door groaned open.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her Rider emerged from the dark tunnels, looking equally as dark as the black depths of the caves far too small for her to enter. His expression was black, his eyes horrifying. He was, so to speak, not a happy bunny.

And yet he was carrying a brand new toy, the Ra'zac he had killed, its sword borne in his hand, clenched tightly in a gauntleted fist. She made no mention of this, instead touching him gently with her snout 'Are you okay little one?'

'No.'

The bitterness in his tone, the anger partly directed in her, though only for asking the question, none of it warranted a response from her, so she just watched softly, waiting for him to speak and not breaking this silence between them.

'This isn't what I wanted' he told her, confessed even, his shoulders slumping, his emotions ranging from sorrow to rage to disappointment, but never to joy or pleasure 'This was supposed to be something more. It… shouldn't feel so pointless. I look at what I did here, and I can't enjoy my vengeance. All is see is a monster, wiping from this earth the last few vestiges of an almost dead race. Nothing more Saphira.'

'They were hardly sympathetic creatures' she reminded him, indeed for all they had done they were quite the opposite. They were the monsters, and he the just hero, ridding the world of their blight. She was not so blind as to be unable to see their point of view though, from that Eragon was exactly what he described, nothing more or less than the executioner.

'That changes nothing' he half snapped 'They were still the last. And I still ended it. All of it…' her Rider paused, and considered the blackness of the cave he had just exited 'He was satisfied, at the end, with just being remembered as some nightmare, a boogey man to scare children with, he didn't want to live, just be acknowledged in history and legend. I wiped out a race Saphira.'

She touched him with her snout, breathing warm air onto his face. He ran a hand along the length of her snout, but couldn't take as much comfort as he would've liked.

Eragon sighed "Roran's reached the cells."

'Oh?'

"And he's now pounding on the doors with his hammer" Eragon sighed louder. He slotted the Ra'zac's sheathed sword into a section on her saddle, where it would be held tight, safe even in flight, before striding towards the tunnels "I'll be back soon."

'Some fishermen saw the battle between myself and the Lethrblaka' she informed him 'You had best hurry for we do not have much time.'

He nodded, though she could not see as he was facing away from her, and was still walking away from where she dwelled.

Once he had vanished into the black tunnels, darkness consuming him entirely and shielding him from her sight, though not from her mind, Saphira curled herself up on the stone ground and decided that, after her exhaustive efforts made for the success of this rescue attempt, she deserved a little nap. Eragon would wake her if anything happened… probably.

...maybe…

…

She'd keep half an eye open, just in case.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Roran flinched when Eragon's hand touched his shoulder, whirling around, his hammer almost swinging, stopping as he met Eragon's eyes.

"Eragon" he said breathlessly, the redness of his face displaying the exertion he had been going through pounding away on the locks of the doors. He took a moment to take a breath, one of several Eragon had heard, the first he had observed, before asking "Did you get it?"

Eragon nodded, not displaying his dissatisfaction at the fact, or the act, or… whatever it had been, he supposed both, and other things as well. He wasn't sure what he was unhappy with, maybe just how he felt in the aftermath.

"Good, that's good" Roran let out a sigh of relief "I've been looking for…" he made to turn and Eragon grabbed his shoulder and shoved him along walking with him to the ninth door along, facing it and speaking a single word, the lock shattering at his touch. Roran grumbled something along the lines of 'Could've done that before' or maybe it was 'Could've given me that' or something, Eragon wasn't sure, he didn't pay too much attention to it.

Instead he let the door swing open and let himself into the blackness of the cell, the harsh white light silhouetting him in the door frame.

Katrina cowered at the end of an iron cot, and the moment she met his eyes, she curled up all the tighter. Her mouth opened and shut just as quickly, and she was shaking. It occurred to Eragon that this was a girl he had known all his life, a girl now stood in complete fear of him. Though he supposed all she could see was his eyes, and his eyes were not pleasant, or so he had been told.

"Wha…" a small, tiny voice, uttered into the dark, at the dark figure before her.

Eragon let out a harsh laugh and pushed Roran in, excusing himself, muttering a spell to release Katrina from the bonds they chained her with without her or Roran noticing. He heard once he was outside her speak "Roran!" a voice filled with hope, wonder and love.

He knew he had to check her, to make sure. But he'd give them a minute, they deserved that, and more to the point he had something to do in that minute.

He entered the room Roran had been hammering away at, and found a man looking fearfully at the door "Who's there?" he murmured, hearing the door swing "What more do you want from me?" the last statement was spoken from desperation, and with much anguish. It would draw pity from another man, from Eragon it drew nothing.

"Sloan" he said slowly.

The butcher frowned and Eragon realised as the man tilted his head to angle his ear that the Ra'zac had taken out his eyes, pecked them most likely. He felt a brief touch of pity, then it faded, replaced by… well not hate, but a dislike certainly. He wasn't sure how to feel about Sloan. On the one hand he had told the Ra'zac about Saphira's egg, indirectly he had killed Garrow, he had also murdered Byrd, Eragon wasn't close to the man by any stretch, but he knew him. And he had taken from Roran the person he loved the most.

It was funny that the last crime was the one that made him feel the most, Sloan's part in the death of Garrow didn't evoke such anger at Roran being denied his love, and potentially being denied her forever. Sloan could not know that the Ra'zac would not kill them, even Eragon wouldn't have assumed that.

'What do I do?'

Saphira didn't respond, he didn't expect her too. She had made her feelings clear on the matter when he had first sensed Sloan's presence yesterday. 'I would not let him live' but she would not question his judgement either, it was up to him and no one else, this was not a decision she would make for him, it was one she would allow him to make by himself.

So he weighed it up, Sloan's crimes against… well, against the simple fact that he was Katrina's father.

And if he was brought back to the Varden others would judge the butcher and he would be hung, if not drawn and quartered first. No, the Varden would not forgive Sloan for his crimes, nor would the villagers he betrayed, and certainly Roran would not forgive him. But would Katrina? Did she care for her father, did she care enough to ignore the crimes he had committed?

It was thinking along those lines that made the decision. Katrina and her potential to care for her father, the potential for her father and his execution to cause a rift between Roran and Katrina. That was what made the decision for him, that simple fact. He made it painless, that was the mercy Sloan received for his position as Katrina's father, and that was all.

"Eragon!" the sound of his cousin's voice drew him from the now completed act of murdering the girl who would soon be his sisters father, and he stood and strode back to the cell. The orb of white light sat outside, while Katrina huddled inside, Roran covering most of the door. He looked at Eragon's worriedly "The light" he said "Katrina's eyes… she…" he looked back at her then back to Eragon.

"Now's a good enough time" Eragon said offhandedly, passing his cousin "Wait there" he told Roran who made to follow. Katrina looked up at him, flinching when she met his eyes and looking away.

"Eragon" she said softly. He nodded, though he supposed it was pointless as she wasn't looking at him "Roran told me… you're a Dragon Rider?" her voice was filled with wonder, and a note of disbelief.

Eragon smiled "That's not the half of it 'Trina" he said, kneeling in front of her, where she was curled up on the cot. He beckoned her forwards, which she did after some hesitation, her feet hitting the floor and her gaze meeting his "Katrina" he said more seriously, this time her gaze did not leave his own "I need to check you for any tampering, by the King, by other spellcasters, you understand?"

She frowned "What do you mean?"

He considered explaining in full, no, that would be a bad idea "If I told you you wouldn't trust a single thought in your head anymore, so just trust me, and don't fight me. Ok?"

Her mouth opened and shut, and then opened again "Ok" she nodded.

"Good" he placed his hand on her forehead. It had been a while since Oromis had taught him these spells, to check for the work of other spellcasters, first he used her memories to confirm this was in fact Katrina, or at least someone who believed they were Katrina and had all of Katrina's memories, and looked exactly like Katrina.

Magic was fucked up.

After that he cast the spells, so many the words merged and became a song, Roran looked at him oddly when he stopped speaking and started singing, but he felt Katrina relax. Her brow losing its creases beneath his palm and becoming smooth and relaxed.

It took him a very long time, but when he was done, he was certain that this was the one, only and original Katrina. It was so strange, he had seen almost all of her, through memories and magic, he well and truly sympathised with this girl, felt the strength of her love, knew the depths of her longing, understood her loathing and love for her father. He understood her, so much, it was almost like… like…

Words tumbled from his mouth, and he heard more than felt Katrina flinch.

"That…" she stared at him, shocked, aghast, like he had intruded on something private, yet confused because she did not know why, or what, he had found.

"Sorry" Eragon told her, not letting his own nerves show. In truth, what he had just learnt… well it terrified him "I'll forget, don't worry" he reassured, and then repeated himself, but in the ancient language "Forget" the word held power over him, not a spell, but more of an oath, he said he would forget, so he would. And so he forgot, and…

Wait.

Why did he just do that?

His brow creased and he gazed intently at Katrina. Had she done something? Was his spell work incorrect and she was not in fact whom he thought she was? But no, he had said it, willingly, so what had he learned that he needed to forget? He caught himself before he put it together, as he still could figure it out, but thankfully managed to stop before he learnt it again. That, he did not want to know "Well" Eragon said, rolling his shoulder "That was a thing" she opened her mouth, so he cut her off "You're eyes, they're hurting?"

She nodded, somewhat unsurely, but not wanting to argue with him, or discuss what had just occurred, Eragon assumed. Having that learnt… well he doubted it was pleasant, even without understanding what had truly occurred.

"From the light?"

Another nod.

"How long have you been in here?"

"I… I don't know."

"When was the last time you saw light? Any light?"

She shook her head "A month? Longer? I don't.."

He raised his hand "It's ok" using his thumb and forefinger he opened her eyelids wide and considered her eye as she struggled not to jerk away from his intrusive touch "Well, I have a solution. Might not be too pleasant though, but you'll be able to see" he didn't add the 'probably' that belonged at the end of there.

'My dearest Rider, what exactly is your plan in the event that, as you fear, her eyes… pop?' Saphira chided.

'Then I'll remake them. Not too difficult, just…'

'Draining. Indeed' Saphira snorted 'And how exactly do you think she will take her eyes exploding in her skull? Well, I presume.'

'She won't notice a thing' Eragon said, beginning his spell, and placing his hand over her eyes. He entered her mind again, careful to avoid anything… anything at all really, and instead took control of her pain receptors, he took all of it, and let himself feel her pain, while masking the pain for her. It was a complex art, like a painting within a painting that fooled those in the painting into thinking it was just a painting, and of course if a paiting was turned around then no one could see what was in the painting. Yep, not even Eragon understood the finer arts behind this, but it was something he could do, steal her pain away and take it for himself.

And so he felt it while he… it wasn't correct to say healed, so rectified her eyes. He could feel every agonising moment. Needless to say having one's eyes tampered with was not pleasant.

His plan was to… reset her eyes, so to speak, bring them back to a different point in time, but that didn't work because he had no reference, so he used Roran's as reference, and made hers match, while not adjusting anything within her eyes, so not colouring them, just altering their reactiveness to light, but that ended up just being how quickly they responded to darkness, how quickly the sphincter around her pupil reacted. So he had to instead go through her eye into her head and adjust her mind's eye, so to speak, and it's responsiveness to light, as technically the eye didn't see anything, the brain interpreted information passed by the eye into images, but he also needed to adjust the eyes pain recepters so that they didn't respond so negatively to the light either.

Basically, eyes were fucking complicated.

But he succeeded, somehow, and once he was done, she could bear witness to light with only minor discomfort, her eyes weren't grossly deformed, nor had their colour been altered, nor had their ability to perceive been altered… much.

'Well done' Saphira told him 'Nothing exploded and neither of you are dead. I'd say tremendous success.'

She was genuinely proud of him, he gathered that much. She alone understood how complex what he had just done was, well actually she understood as much as he did, and he wasn't one hundred percent clear on its complexity. There might be a simple solution, but he didn't know it, so had to jump through a complicated series of hoops in order to do what he wanted.

It was awful.

Roran looked between them as Eragon led Katrina from the cell, he left her in his cousins care striding forwards, passing by Sloan's cell and deciding he'd mention it later.

"My father…" or not "...is he… here?"

Eragon sighed and turned to look at her "I wouldn't bother looking, but he's in there" he tapped the cell "He…" how to phrase pleasantly "He didn't make it."

A shiver rode the length of her body, and a single tear escape her eye, but she spared the cell only a single look "I understand" and walked past it, with Roran's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

When they entered the large cavern where Saphira stood Eragon heard Katrina gasp, at the mere sight of his glorious dragon her breath was taken away. Smiling grimly, he considered the fact that her breath had been stolen by his eyes as well, though for different… and yet also somewhat similar reasons. Saphira was glorious, primal and furious, yet there was an elegance to her form and features, a elegance that did not conflict with her raw nature in the slight, indeed the elegance was because of it.

Eragon's eyes were just raw, raw and angry and painful, like a gaping wound.

"Katrina" he saw, raising his arm to pat Saphira on the snout "Meet Saphira. Saph, this is Kat, 'kay?"

Saphira snorted 'I do not need you to parrot for me, Eragon' she said, making Katrina gasp again.

"You speak!?" she quickly shut her mouth as the dragon's gaze was turned to her.

'Indeed, it is a wonder that you are all so shocked by it. I mean you speak, why should I not?' she shook her head, pushing away thoughts on the arrogance of man 'It matters not. I am pleased to meet the mate of Eragon's cousin' Katrina flushed at being referred to as 'mate', but curtsied 'But enough pleasantries, we need to be off. Dras'Leona may soon be upon us, and if their spellcasters get word, then word will not be far from the King.'

"True" Eragon murmured. He hadn't thought of that, and briefly wondered if Galbatorix might be watching them right now he 'Hmmed' at the thought "Katty, come here."

With Roran in hand she approached, Saphira knelt to let her climb more easily, but she still required Eragon and Roran's help up, and to strap her in as well.. Roran was next up, clambering to sit behind her, and hold her close, Eragon was last, behind them both, not even on the saddle instead sat on hard scales with a spike to cling to.

Saphira turned to the entrance, invisible from this side, and leapt out, letting them drop forty meters before her wings unfurled and with but a few flaps leveled their flight path. Katrina had been screaming the whole time, but its sound was stolen by the wind. Only a faint whisper reaching him rather than the loud ear piercing sound it should have been.

There was nothing quite like being on dragon back.

'Wait.'

The thought surprised even him, even though the thought was there in his head, even Eragon didn't think he was crazy enough to go through with it. But he was.

He looked back, the mountain that they were still very close too, at the pick black spire that towered over Dras'Leona, at the horrific monument to suffering and pain. It was disgusting, there was no glory, no thrill to Helgrind, just cruelty, just mordbiidty, just the human obsession with death and all that came with and beyond it.

A fascination with the abyss itself, with the great nothing, with the very concept of non-existance itself.

Brom once told him that there was a an abyss beyond this life, Oromis expanded upon this, as did the elves knowledge. There was no abyss, there was no void, that was merely an understandable concept. There was merely nothing. A lack of existence, that was what existence beyond life, nothing, nothing at all.

It had, in equal part, scared and thrilled him. The idea that this was his one shot, his only chance, that if he screwed it up that was that, was both terrifying and exciting. There was nothing beyond this, no afterlife, no heaven, no hell, no icy pits, no city of light, there was simply a lack of existing.

That was what Helgrind represented, in his eyes, it represented fear of that nothingness, it represented a deep desperate craving to avoid it, at all costs, even at the costs of limbs. The priests of Helgrind got as close to death as they could, not because they wanted to cross the void, quite the opposite.

It was why revival via magic was so… difficult.

Brom had told him it was impossible, for good reason, it was practically impossible but not theoretically. First of all a… instance of a person was required, deep intimate knowledge, not just of them, but of the inner works of their body. Then magic powerful enough to replicate that instance perfectly, which was not presently possessed by the elves, they could repair but ultimately they just accelerated natural processes, taking what was already there and expanding on it was far less draining than creating it from scratch.

But then existential questions came to mind, given that it would be a replicate, would it still be you? Or would it be another you? Since technically this existence could exist without the original being dead was a truly a revival?

That was one school, the other involved reversal of the damage, but was similar, it simply used the original body and reformed it to that instance in time that one had knowledge of. The same questions arose. The final one felt that all damage must be repairable, or reversible, yet they had not been able to prove their theory, as still some things were beyond the skills of elves.

But he was getting off topic, this right here was about Helgrind, and humans, well, all living beings truly but most prominent here in this human instance, fascination with death.

He hated those mountains.

Eragon's felt his teeth clench and a single word come to his mouth as anger rose to prominence in this thoughts. By all that was, he hated those mountains, they represented the worst of death, fruitless sacrifice, desperation, and fear, no glorious slaughter, no thrill of slaughter, no kill or be killed, simply die.

The word he spoke?

Crush.

* * *

So I have some deadlines coming up, and some tests as well, fuck tests, and no chapter 3 all ready, in fact I'm not 100% happy with this here chapter 2 but it'll do, so yeah. Don't expect anything until after the 19th maybe? Of course if I post something next week just know that I'm doing fine on my deadlines... or terribly.

Toodles.

 **Edit:** Minor changes made to this chapter, nothing too important but some details later will be questionable if you do reread it.


	3. Home, Or As Close As We Could Get

**Authors Note:** Some additions were made to chapter two, you might not notice them, but you might. So if you feel like rereading it it might be a good idea and if you don't you won't miss much.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Home, Or As Close As We Could Get.**

' _Eragon.'_

He let out a slow breath, from between clenched teeth, but kept his eyes facing forwards, and his hands gripping tightly whatever there was to grip on this saddle ' _Not now Saphira.'_

' _Ah, yes, of course, you're ultimate defence. 'Not now', 'Later', 'I'm not in the mood', 'Don't do this, not right now'. You have many ways of phrasing it but are ultimately avoiding the issue. That is not healthy, my beloved Rider, nor will I allow you to do so, at least not in this matter'_ her tone was stern, lacking the typical playfulness with which she usually taunted her rider. This wasn't about taunting him, this was about something she considered more serious, 'protecting him'.

And so this time he just flat out sighed ' _What do you want me to say?'_

' _Many things. None have bearing here and now. This is not a matter of what I want you to say, this is a matter of you being a reckless fool, constantly saved by chance, fortune and misfortune in equal measure. How long will it last? How long until you say a word, and that word proceeds to kill you, my beloved Rider?'_ again stern, a veil covering the anger she felt at his actions, knowing that he would not respond well to them or not wanting them to impact upon this discussion.

' _Well, lucky for me then, I have someone more skilled at magic than I to take control when I fuck up, eh?'_ though it was said with a certain self chastising mockery, there was no humour to it, at least he didn't feel any.

He had rendered Helgrind into a pile of rubble, crushed a mountain, a whole fucking mountain… a MOUNTAIN, a hundred million tonnes of rock or more, torn down like a castle's keep. But it wasn't _him_ who did it, wasn't Eragon who had performed the deed, he just wielded the sword, just swung the axe, someone else dealt with the mess, in this case his old buddy Legion.

The spell would've killed him, his intent at least. 'Crush', he had wanted to crush it whole, down into a ball no larger than his balled fist. He would not have survived the feat, if it had even been fully performed. So rather than face his death, someone else had taken the reigns of the spell and… reinterpreted it. Crush became merely a broad statement, defining roughly what he wanted, the mountain to be rendered 'not a mountain', and the mountain was 'crushed' in a sense, in the sense of it was weakened such that it crushed itself, collapsing under its own weight.

And even that had taken almost all the power they possessed.

Saphira was running on barely a quarter of a tank, Eragon was near unconscious, and Legion was barely clinging to existence. With all the spirits contained within him, with Legion and his own strength, with his own power and Saphira, he had very carefully and in a excessively safe yet also very precise, surgically almost, manner destroyed a mountain… mostly.

There were still some larger chunks, but the peaks had all fallen and most of the bases were in tatters, it was hardly worshipable anymore, if nothing else, and certainly could no longer play host to less than wholesome creatures, it was too… rubbly, for that.

And Helgrind wasn't even that big of a mountain, compared to some of the peaks in the Spine or, god forbid, the Beors, Helgrind was positively miniscule, and yet it had almost killed him to knock it down.

' _Eragon, I will stop, rip you from my saddle, kindly ask Roran and Katrina to step down and RIP YOUR FUCKING ARSEHOLE APART IF YOU AREN'T BLOODY CAREFUL!'_

He would've laughed if she weren't so serious, and if the cause for her anger were not her concern for him. As it was all he could muster was a smirk he didn't feel and she didn't bother acknowledging.

' _I thought our time with the elves had bestowed some wisdom… nay, rather some level of detachment from your emotions upon you, that you might look at a situation with logic and not allow yourself to make foolishly rash decisions because of your emotions. But no, you are still rash, rash and impetuous, arrogant, foolhardy, and utterly stupid.'_

Her wings beat harder for a moment, an indicator, the only that could be seen, though not the only that could be felt, of her anger, then she slowed to a glide, letting a calm sweep over her.

' _Eragon… I have told you this before, many times in fact, but if you die I will not live long beyond it, if at all. So don't. Don't do things that might kill you, don't be stupid, just… just don't. Please'_ many seconds passed, with only the sound of the wind, and their own personal thoughts instead of each others ' _For me.'_

' _I know'_ he said leaning back to stare at the sky ' _I know Saphira. I just… I don't.'_

She laughed, it made Roran and Katrina jumped as the flight became a little rocky, but she evened out after a few moments ' _My Rider finally admits his ignorance. What a tremendous day it is indeed'_ more moments passed before she finally spoke again ' _I know you cannot, or will not, swear not to do something so foolish again, but please try. Remember what Oromis said, separate yourself from yourself, look upon you as if they were a stranger and when you can pick apart the man that is yourself as well as any other, then know you have become truly wise.'_

He rolled his eyes ' _Yet also foolish, because you wasted a rather large of time just thinking about you, when you could've done something useful. So I'll pass, thanks.'_

Saphira snorted.

' _I know'_ he said again, patting her scales and returning to topic ' _I'll try, but… I'm not the type for self reflection. It'd break me.'_

' _Would it?'_ she mocked ' _Then perhaps you ought to.'_

' _Thanks for that…'_ he smiled grimly, the smile fading as darker thoughts took his own mind down a path he'd rather not wander, he sighed and considered the wide expanse of the sky, still so far out of reach despite how high they flew, and it forever would be out of reach, he knew that much ' _With all I've done'_ he started slowly ' _All the things I've enjoyed doing, taken pleasure in enacting, the horrors I've inflicted onto men and other beings… if I looked at the man who committed such acts without the protective lense that is my own viewpoint would I, in good conscience, allow such a person to walk free, if walk at all?'_

Saphira was silent for a long while but she did finally answer ' _Or perhaps you would look at what you've done, what you've enjoyed doing, and realise that, in the grand scheme of things, you are an ant and therefore your pleasure at acts of violence are not so terrible. Especially when compared to the greater suffering of the world'_ after a moment he was forced to agree ' _It may be easier to think of the horrors that men do, Eragon, but forget not the horrors that this world inflicts upon us for no greater crime than existing. We live in a cruel world, and I do not think it is such a terrible thing to take pleasure in death and violence, as long as one does not cause them lacking a grander reasoning.'_

That did make him laugh ' _Do I have a 'grander reasoning'?'_

She shrugged, or the best approximation a dragon could do while in mid flight ' _Eh, most of the time you do... I think.'_

' _Well thanks for the vote of confidence.'_

' _Just be careful Eragon, that's all I ask.'_

Eragon grinned ruefully ' _You ask far too much.'_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She knew long before word reached her, she could hear it. Not just in the people around her, not just in their minds, but in the world itself. Nature itself sang of Eragon and Saphira, Dragon Rider's, after all, were something… more, and it was taken note of by far more than just the 'sentient' races. The birds, the plants, the trees, the organisms that lived in the dirt, all of their minds spoke, nay sang, of _their_ coming.

And in equal measure they screamed in fear.

A Shade was coming, he would bring seas of blood, a storm of bones, and rend the world asunder with illness, famine, chaos, and ruin. He brought death, pain, suffering, horror and war, and would unleash it upon all the world. A monster, an unholy union approached them, and it would be most terrible indeed.

While Eragon and Saphira were revered for their connection Eragon and… whatever else existed within him was not, it was reviled, loathed, and hated by the world.

It was not a genuine 'thought', so to speak, they were not aware of Eragon and Saphira directly, well not all of them, but indirectly they could… sense perhaps, or knew, or just… understood that he was near, that he existed. Perhaps it was something deeper than thoughts, something touching into the nature of magic itself, afterall it was evident in her as well, she was 'aware' of Eragon and Saphira, it was just that she could not sense it in herself, nor notice it, while in other beings it was more evident, still subtle, almost non existent, but present if you but knew how to listen.

Not a trait all of her own race fully understood, nevermind those with more limited time to learn.

Arya stood and headed out, striding calmly towards where most people had gathered.

She saw Nasuada, watching the sky, then her as she approached, but back to the sky soon after. Her gaze was relieved, yes, but also stormy. The Leader of the Varden had not been pleased when she had learned of Eragon's actions. Leaving, without permission, on a quest that Nasuada felt endangered him too much, and especially while Murtagh was a very real threat, not just to him but to the Varden as a whole.

Behind closed doors Nasuada had expressed her anger quite… colourfully.

Arya's gaze quickly turned to the sky though, just as Saphira swooped down. Men and women rushed out of the way, while children whooped, and the dragon thudded into the ground with a bone breaking force, enough to make men stumble, even she felt a little unsteady, though it was nothing compared to those around her.

Though the force with which she landed was intense, Saphira _was_ a dragon, and her bones were made of tougher stuff than mortal men, or immortal elves, and she simply shrugged off the impact, snorting out a flame.

Eragon was down first, armoured as he had been when she last saw him, with Durza, it still confused her calling his sword that while she, 'knew' was too strong a word, 'was acquainted' with a man, well sort of a man, who also bore that name. He had borne that sword as well, before Eragon took it from whatever remained of the being that was Durza.

Though naturally Eragon could name the sword whatever he wished, it was his after all, and no doubt the legend of his sword would far outlive tales of the Shade they had both known, that did not stop it from being confusing at times.

His cousin came down next and then Saphira crouched low, allowing Roran to aid a young woman down from the dragon. Roran's betrothed no doubt, there truly was no doubt, Arya could feel it within her mind and through Roran's sparse attempt at a defence. Eragon's tutorship she assumed. The feelings they had for each other were… intense, so much so that she purposefully backed away from their minds, only glancing touches, such that she was not wholly exposed to them

Only after his two passengers, or his dragons rather, had descended did the Rider finally move to stand further forwards, before his leader, Nasuada. His eyes examined her, lingering long on the bandages on her arms, and the strained expression on her face, his own expression unreadable as his watched Nasuada, who in turn was watching him..

Then he cracked a grin, one that lacked much of its usual humour, almost bitter in its appearance, but a grin nonetheless "You look like hell."

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Nasuada felt a muscle in her cheek twitch, but forced a polite smile "To the contrary you look quite well" she forced her kindest smile, one she knew looked good, she had spent many hours perfecting it in her younger years after all "I am glad you are safe, Eragon."

He chuckled "Of course you are" his eyes returned to her injuries "Who?"

"Myself."

That made him raise an eyebrow "Oh?" a slight frown creased his features, confusion, understandable given the situation "To what end?"

"The end of fulfilling my duty. Strengthening the Varden's position to the ultimate end of the successor of our endeavour. But there is time for such tales later" she casually closed the distance between them, until the men who circled around could not overhear what she was about to say, yet Eragon could "What in the hell were you doing?" and then hissed a question at him with more venom than she intended.

He grinned, again, that same half hearted grin "My duty" he retorted.

She bristled "You could've…"

"I could've" he agreed, stopping her, speaking to her in a low flat tone, the kind she knew well, the kind she used to express disappointment, keeping his expression neutral and polite, much as she did "But I'd rather ask forgiveness, than ask permission, be denied, and do it anyway" their eyes met and she refused to look away "So the question now becomes, can you afford to not forgive me, Lady Nasuada?"

She let out a long slow breath, then took a step back, her expression stern and imperious, but hinted underneath was pride, and all of it a falsehood "My orders have been completed then, Shadeslayer, Galbatorix's foul tool, the Ra'zac have been slain by your hand?" she asked aloud, so that all might hear.

Eragon's grin widened at her response. She would neither forgive nor forget, but those around them would never know such a conflict existed, indeed those around could not know, lest it undo the very foundation of all that had been built "It is done, my Lady" he declared, equally as loud, just as fake "The Ra'zac are dead, and my cousins betrothed have been saved from their grasp."

Nasuada then turned her gaze to Katrina, almost hidden behind Roran, and felt an almost genuine smile touch her face "I am glad you managed to rescue her" she told Roran "And I am truly glad you are safe" Katrina half bowed, looking like a cornered cat, unsure of where to look or where to turn.

"Roran Stronghammer!" Orrin marched, with nobles and soldiers, towards them. He strode forwards, clapped Roran on the arm, bowed to Katrina and kissed her hand, offered warm greeting to Eragon.

He did not know of Eragon's defiance, few did. Arya, who was the first to know having informed even Nasuada of Eragon's departure after he left Murtagh's sword with her, Elva, who had been in the room at the time, and Angela, who informed herself, somehow. That was it, all others believed it to be a mission she had not only consented to, but indeed ordered him to perform.

And it would stay that way.

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It felt like they were stood there, surrounded on all sides, for hours. Endless men wishing to kiss her hand, to shake Roran's, and of course to speak with the famed Dragon Rider Eragon. It was clear why they were all here, clear why they showed any courtesy to the pair of them, because they were related to the Rider, but all those nobles really wished was to ingratiate themselves to Eragon.

It was kind of disgusting in truth, to sit through these pleasantries knowing they weren't meant for you, or at least weren't intended to do anything for you.

Orrin, the King of Surda, was the only one who seemed truly interested in her and her plight, and even then his interest did not make her comfortable, quite the opposite in fact, though thankfully it was subtle enough that others did not notice and cause a fuss, especially Roran, the last thing she needed was him and a King at each other's throats.

At some point though Eragon's patience ran out, she could tell, hell anyone could he had stopped giving polite, or even non committal, even vaguely human responses, and started just glaring at everyone who dared speak to him. Yet they dared still, and Katrina could almost see the signs of his temper rising, see a vein pulsing in his neck.

But before any of that could occur there was a noise so loud it deafened her, made her fall to her knees and weep, stunned her silent.

A dragon's roar, at point blank, was not easy to brush off, even Roran was pained, or so she noticed in the aftermath. The nobles scrambled and screamed, Orrin himself backed away hastily, his soldiers looking unsure of what to do but holding their weapons threateningly, but not at the source of the threat. Nasuada had vanished at some point, and the only other person of note was Eragon, completely unaffected, merely cocking a brow at his dragon.

"We're tired" he said roughly, all illusion of politeness gone "We'll be taking our leave now."

"Of course, Lord Eragon" Orrin said, clapping his hands "My apologies I did not think we would take so long" he offered other pleasantries but quickly made his own exit, as did the rest, hastily, but not too much so as to appear impolite.

And this left them with a crowd on all sides staring endlessly at them all.

Eragon didn't seem to care, he strode right at a solid wall of people, and they just moved, first enough room for him, then as she and Roran hurried to follow enough room for them as well, and finally a space almost larger than a roadway opened up for them as Saphira brought up the tail of their little convoy and was also given more than enough space.

They walked for a good while, long enough that her legs were starting to ache, though given how long it had been since she had walked any distance that was no good measurement, but she was tired and had been for a long time, so it may have been five minutes, or twenty.

And none of this was helped by the fact that she was not entirely convinced Eragon knew where he was going, he walked quickly enough, but not with great purpose. He didn't look for signs, or people, and he wasn't following a well beaten path, indeed he seemed to be walking randomly, at least from what she could discern.

The crowd had fully dispersed a long time ago, now only a few were around them, and most just quietly bowed to Eragon and otherwise ignored them, it was at this time that Eragon turned to look at the pair of them, and seemed to weigh them up for a while, the couple before him, before finally smiling.

If it weren't for those eyes, Katrina might find that smile comforting.

As it was, she was grateful when it stopped looking at her, when Eragon strode over, patted Roran on the shoulder, ruffled her hair in a playful manner, and then was gone, Saphira hot on his tail, though she too stopped to offer them both a nod, which Katrina responded to by curtseying as best as she could.

After they were gone she looked around, then looked to Roran who looked none the wiser. Where had they been brought to?

Their first, and the only one required, hint came when Elene, wife of Horst, emerged from a tent, spotted them and cried out, then, at Elene's cry, yet more familiar faces emerged from the surrounding tents.

It was odd, like a weight pressed on her heart, Katrina felt a smile so wide it made her face hurt erupted onto lips, while her eyes blurred as tears fell down her face. They surrounded the pair of them, laughing, crying, hugging, the whole village, and Katrina wasn't sure if she was sad or happy or anything. Katrina did not know what she felt in this moment, but not once did Roran let go of her, her hand was in his the entire time.

And for that she was truly grateful.

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"Lord Eragon?" she asked from the other side of the fabric, denying her entry.

To her left a dragon slept, or at least Trianna thought she was sleeping, it was hard to tell, very hard in fact, especially as the dragon seemed to be capable of sleeping with one eye open, and occasionally appeared to react to those around her following them with her one open eye. So maybe she was not asleep merely keeping very still… and occasionally snoring.

But for now Trianna would assume she was, in fact, asleep.

She could practically hear him roll his eyes, or maybe it was just the tone of his voice, so bored, disparaging even, of her, her opinion, her everything. He did not sound terribly… happy "I'm no lord, Trianna" a beat passed, a more impatient voice spoke next "What do you want?"

"May I enter?" she inquired.

There was a short exhalation, almost a sigh "If you wish" he answered after a moment.

She did.

It was dark in the tent, there was no fire, no candle, and no other, more ethereal source of light, and no flaps open to allow the sunlight entry, but she could make her way through just fine in the dull emittance allowed through gaps in the material, and that more intense light which shone clean through the material.

The tent itself was hardly befitting one with standing such as he, equal if not above the royalty themselves, but nor was it a plebs affair either. It had a bath, a sturdy wooden bed quilted in royal green, a table upon which had been laid swords, a roughly man shaped mannequin upon which had been placed his armour. There was even a patterned rug covering most of the floor.

To any of the lower ranks this would likely be seen as the height of excess, to some of the nobility this was just right, for her own tastes this was a little drab, but for a Rider?

Trianna had no idea of his personal opinion of the rooms their Lady Nasuada had provided, but she felt that it was unbefitting him, almost an insult, almost but not quite, and the kind of insult that, to respond to, would only make one look a fool, or arrogant, or an arrogant fool.

None of which were good things to be labelled as.

Eragon himself sat before the table, considering the swords that were sat there. Two in total, one she had seen before, the other unfamiliar, and not the one he had previously borne, but Trianna paid them all little mind. Swords, the tools of the common soldier, were of no real interest to her, magic was to swords what swords were to sticks, and magic was the weapon she wielded.

Quite adeptly, if she did say so herself, which she did, though not in a way that was at all boastful or arrogant, it wouldn't do to appear in such a light after all, confident yet cautious was the best way to appear, knowing one's limits, yet knowing, and perhaps exaggerating just a little, their strengths too.

"Lord Eragon" he turned his gaze to her, sullen and disinterested, yet even though his expression screamed of boredom, those eyes. They were still so… terrifying… and mesmerising. She felt like she could drown in them, and like they wanted to drown her. And they were so red, so very, very red. Redder than blood, spurting from a neck wound.

Red eyes.

Trianna blinked, but her thoughts, wherever they had been, were interrupted by Eragon's coarse voice.

"Did you need something?" he asked with a feigned sweetness that came off as bitter "Or are you just here for the pleasure of my company, because if so I'm afraid you'll find I'm quite lacking in pleasure today."

She put on a smile that would make men swoon, Eragon didn't even blink "I merely wished to speak with you about our performance in the battle, the Du Vrangr Gata that is, and how we might best serve in future. As well as, if I may be so bold, offer my own humble opinion on your leadership."

For a moment Trianna feared rejection, the look in his his eyes downright disdainful, and indeed she even planned her response, understanding and placating, but one that would not lose her face, or harm her pride.

But before she could get further he sighed, shaking his head, then nodded, distinctly at her "You may" he stood, and offered her the chair, which she took graciously "So please, regale me with your questions and the answers you want to hear, Trianna."

"Indeed" she kept her smile despite his words "Well then, may I start with how you personally evaluate our performance? Were we of significant use to you and how might we improve, personally I thought that our joining was quite effective when battling enemy magicians, especially with you on our side, though even on our own it would present an advantage, also…"

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She heard voices in the tent, talking, discussing, conferring, perhaps even debating, and amiably too. Most unusual. So unusual in fact that she paused for a moment to listen.

' _Trianna, the magic girl'_ a sleepy voice in her head told her. Arya turned her head to acknowledge the dragon who, to even her senses, had appeared to be asleep ' _She's been in there for a while, asking about this and that, and the other too. Oh, and her hand keeps finding its way to Eragon's thigh… most unusual, don't you agree?'_

Arya did not respond, beyond a respectful bow of her head, and mumbling of the phrase 'May the stars watch over you'. Saphira chortled.

The elven woman tapped on the cloth covering the entrance.

And the response was immediate "What do you want?" a voice asked, Arya could practically feel the sneer purely in his tone.

"I brought you your…" she paused and reconsidered her words "What you left in my keeping."

She heard some words being muttered, too quiet and distant even for her, and then a woman's voice say "Indeed". Sounds of movements followed, and then Trianna emerged from the tent, offered her a polite but also venomous smile, and then left. Arya didn't dignify that with a response, it wasn't worth one.

"Are you coming in, or do you want to teleport it to me?" Eragon asked, his voice gaining an edge.

She entered, not desiring conflict right now, and for a moment her eyes and Eragon's met, then she looked away, placed Murtagh's sword, or former sword as the case may be, with the other two he had lying on a table, assuming that was a good enough place for it, and then immediately turned to leave. Arya was at the entryway before another word was spoken.

"Thank you."

The words… were surprising, and made her stop, and turn to him again. All the questions bubbling in her head rose and begged to be asked, she asked perhaps the least interesting one of the bunch "Why not take it with you?"

Eragon shrugged, he was sat on the bed, staring at the ground, occasionally looking up to her when he could be bothered. He looked… tired, and something else she couldn't quite place, mournful was too strong, miserable maybe, just mildly grieved, like he had lost something he didn't want to, but not something vital. Maybe that too was entirely wrong, maybe he was just very bored, or dissatisfied with life as it was.

"It's not mine" he answered, fiddling with his hands, not nervously, but just as something to do "I can't carry it into battle, because it's not mine" his gazed turned to the sword, an odd smile on his face "It never will be."

"Is Zar'roc still yours?" she inquired.

"Was it ever?"

Ignoring the fact that that contradicted with his previous statement, which would no doubt just serve to aggravate him, Arya didn't have an answer.

Instead she took a step forward, and brushed some hair from Eragon's eyes, letting their full glory survey her, let herself be drowned in those eyes that made all else in the world matter less, because those eyes looked at her, everything else could go hang. At least, until they stopped, until the terror of being beheld by that gaze faded away, and the world mattered a little more.

Confusion grew on his face at her almost intimate touch and she quickly took a step back.

"What happened to Murtagh was not your fault. Nor your responsibility."

"I know."

"I know you do, but I still feel you need reminding" she considered him, sat there, looking at the ground again "He is the enemy Eragon" his hand clenched into a fist "and I do know you don't want him to be, I know you want to help him, save him even" a sneer found its way to his lips "But some men cannot be saved. Sometimes the best you can do is…"

Eragon laughed, a cruel harsh noise "You elves and your pragmatic views on euthanasia."

"Is it wrong?"

"No" he admitted, then smirked "But is it right?"

She didn't answer, for there wasn't one. It wasn't right or wrong, most things weren't, it just was, and the rightness or wrongness depended entirely on who viewed the situation "Whatever you chose to do Eragon, the world will react. If he is allowed to live and wreak havoc, or if he dies and those who loved him mourn, the w…"

"I don't give a damn about the world, Arya!" he said, voice turning cold "Murtagh…" he shook his head "Murtagh means more to me than this land, more to me than the Varden, more than…"

"Than your revenge?" she took a step forward again and forced him to look at her, her hand on his chin, his gaze having fallen as his speech trailed off "More than Saphira?" he grabbed her wrist, but she did not back down, not when his grip tightened, not when it continued to tighten, not even when it got so tight she feared he would snap the bone.

He let go.

"Get out" he said simply, not angry, not bitter, just done, done with her, done with this conversation, likely done with much more, but those things were not done with him. Nor, she feared, would they ever be.

She nodded, expression betraying nothing, and saying nothing, turning and leaving as he wished.

Saphira blinked at her as she left, and she murmured an apology to the dragon for angering her Rider, but the dragon just smiled a toothy grin, and sent her on her way with a strangely friendly puff smoke.

Despite her calm demeanor, Arya knew that it was not just the Rider torn on this issue. Murtagh had been Saphira's… friend, she supposed. They had travelled together, broken into Gilead together, they had history, and to be faced with the fact that they now stood on opposite sides in this conflict could hardly be pleasant. Neither Rider nor Dragon knew what to do, yet both knew they must do something, how long it took them to decide could decide the lives of many, and yet they could not be rushed, could not and perhaps even should not.

Arya sighed.

* * *

So I haven't been around in a while. Yeah, sorry about that. Shit happened, I'm also now stuck on how to continue, having some continuity issues as in the books Eragon wasn't around at this point so I have to figure out how the fuck things will change, or won't change as the case most likely will be, with him there.

I hope you enjoy the chapter, it hopefully addressed any issues you had, I know only one of you talked about issues with the mountain being crushed, but I took that too heart and found it really bothered me, so now its altered. Sorry for those of you who really liked that, but it IS unrealistic as all hell, even with the stupid amount of power I've given Eragon.

Anyway, toodles till next time (give it about twenty two years).


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